Mr George Street
by razraz
Summary: Just some ramblings on possible reactions on how Della Street's father would react to meeting her boss.


**George Street  
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"You know that's my daughter Mr Mason," George Street growled at the lawyer who had joined him out on the veranda of George's sister Mae's house. From here, the waves of the ocean crashing on the beach provided a musical backdrop.

"I know," Perry replied cautiously, lighting a cigarette. He didn't imagine George Street growled very often. He had a calm about him that was very familiar. It perturbed him that he could cause him to growl having only met George Street within the last half hour.

"I see the way she looks at you, Mr Mason, she is vulnerable to you," George Street tried to keep the accusation out of his tone but he didn't feel he had time to mince words.

"I think you underestimate your daughter, Mr Street, she is no weak willed female, no wide eyed country girl able to be sweet talked with insincere words or false promises," Perry pointed out. She wasn't even susceptible to his sincerest protestation of devotion, Perry thought to himself.

"I know how stubborn my daughter is, Mr Mason, and I am not talking about insincere words or false promises. I'm talking about..." unused to expressing this protective anger, George Street found he was momentarily lost for words. Perry felt for him, wanting to protect his daughter. Knowing from Della's descriptions that he was not really a confrontational type of person. Again Perry was swept with an unease that he was the cause of this man stepping out of his comfort zone.

"Mr Street, Della and I..." the door open and Della came out, the look on her face was stern curiosity, a look he knew well, he held up his hand, but his eyes were drawn to his right he glanced at Mr Street and saw him also holding his hand up.

"Papa what are you quizzing Perry about?" calm firm tones that made the hair stand up on Perry's neck. He sensed she hadn't overheard them but that she knew exactly what was going on. Where as in the office she would demure and feign an unawareness that so often put clients at ease, here surrounded by her family she felt no such restraint. Her eyes were fixed on her father.

"About his intentions," George stated defiantly meeting his daughter's stare. His calmness triggered anger in Della.

"His intentions? His intentions? He is not my beau, he is not … he is my boss, why are you embarrassing me?"

"Perhaps I should go," Perry said,

"You stay where you are," Della snapped, before turning back to her father, "What is it you think you have a right to ask him about?"

"Have you no care for your reputation girl?" her father bit back at her.

"I have no reason to care for my reputation, I have not done anything to sully it," she retorted hotly.

"That is not what is insinuated in the press," George Street's temper was up and Perry watched as with almost identical expression they glared at each other. Controlled, anger from both of them. He realized with sudden insight that their heated exchange was only a simmer of what they were capable of. He had to reassess 'his Della' against this new information. He had thought he had seen her angry before, but never with bubbling heat that threatened to flow into a loss of control. He decided he should interrupt.

"Mr Street, I can assure you that I would do nothing to hurt Della, she is too valuable to me, to risk losing her."

"Perry, you don't need to explain yourself to my father," Della said in tight crisp tones, she did not spare him a glance but continued to stare down her father.

"You're wrong Della, because of how important you are to me I do have explain myself to your father," he turned to Mr Street, "I would marry your daughter this second if she would let me. I have never loved anyone the way I love Della." He butted out his cigarette in the ashtray and drew in a slow breath, "Your daughter has made it very clear to me that she does not feel the same, nor is she looking for a rich boss to marry. I wish she were because I would volunteer for the position." He risked looking at Della, her eyebrow was raised and her arms were crossed. "If you wish to speak further to me Mr Street, I'd be happy to come out and see you."

"I don't live in this state," George Street pointed out gruffly, confused by the honesty of this man and the anger of his daughter that was no longer completely directed at him.

"As I said, I'd be happy to see you at any time if you think it is required." He turned to Della, "I'm going to go, I didn't mean to interrupt your time with your family."

He turned to George Street and stuck out his hand, "It was an honour to meet you Mr Street," he said. George looked into the lawyers eyes, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

"Mr Mason," George replied shaking his hand, still uneasy but what he could he say in the face of the attorney's confession.

Della had not moved from where she stood arms folded, lips now pressed together and tightly pursed. Perry turned to her his fingers twitched in her direction, but he force-ably kept his arms close to his sides. She was not impressed with what he had just admitted to her father.

"Goodnight Miss Street," he said softly. She lifted up her eyebrow without saying anything. She was as mad with him as she with her own father.

"You didn't expect me to lie, did you Della?" he asked her softly, his blue eyes dark in the muted porch light. She could feel their intensity and ignored it.

"I would have expected you to take the fifth, at the very least, Counselor," she replied without a hint of amusement. He lashed her a grin before ducking his head and heading back inside to grab Paul and excuse himself from Mae's house. They would have to talk but now was not the time. He would have given anything for the right to be able to intrude on her family.

Della renewed her glare at her father, "Why would you embarrass me in front of my boss?"

"You never told me he was in love with you," her father pointed out. At his even tone, all the anger drained out of her and she sank down onto the basket couch. She covered her face with her hands, as the first sobs hit her, he slipped down next to her and encompassed her in his arms. He had never seen his daughter cry over a man in her life. He pulled out his handkerchief. she blew her nose, "Oh Papa, oh papa..."

"Honey, why does he think you don't love him?" he asked her, "I could see it the moment he walked through the door."

Della took a deep breathe,"Because that's what I told him, and I have never lied to him before. Its the only thing I have ever lied to him about"

"Why?" her dad asked.

"If he thought I loved him, I don't know if he would take no for an answer."

"I still don't follow," George admitted.

"He is not the marrying kind," Della explained.

"But if he asked you honey, he must be serious. He doesn't strike me as someone who says something he doesn't mean."

"Yes he means it, he always means what he says at the moment he says it," Della agreed.

"You do love him, don't you Della."

She wiped her nose and drew a deep breath before answering."Very much, but that's just it, if I married him, I would loose him."

"You know your logic is flawed, honey." His hazel eyes were concerned and confused. She glanced at him, then looked out into the darkness.

"What ever he is doing has his fullest attention, and ninety percent of the time that is work. He has an insatiable curiosity and he is driven to help the underdog." She was speaking slowly and he realised she had given this a lot of thought, "He needs a challenge and a fight. He doesn't have time for a wife and a family. I can't loose him, I simply can't and if I married him, he would stick me in a big house and be off having adventures with his new secretary. He would be gone off on a new case before we even left the church."

"Don't you think you are underestimating him just a little bit?" her father asked gently. This man she described was different from the brief impression he got from their recent visitor. She shook her head at his comment.

"We make a really good team," she continued. She would not have admitted that to anyone except her father. Let everyone else think that she was Perry's ..., she knew the truth. No one else's opinion mattered. Her father's opinion did though,"One of the reasons is... I am better than anyone else at anticipating him." They stayed outside for awhile as he absorbed what this meant, to know someone so well that you knew what their reactions were going to be. That the benefits of that knowledge meant she filled the gaps, the reason they worked really well together, it was the same reason that filled her with fear. She imagined she knew what would happen if she admitted her feelings to her boss. He felt so much pain for his eldest daughter, she had always been so strong, the one they all leaned on. She was so used to being the supportive one. He was scared her fear was based on her inability to lean on anyone else. The door opened and her mother came out, "What are you two doing? You're not squabbling are you? You didn't start arguing in front of Mr Mason did you?" Mrs Street demanded of the pair of them noticing Della's red eyes.

"I wouldn't embarrass Della by doing that," her father protested, giving Della a wink and a quick hug. Her mother looked at them suspiciously for a moment , "Well dinner is ready, so come in and get washed up."

"Okay Mama."

"Yes dear"

The door closed, the screen door clattering almost like an after thought. Della got up to go in, but her father took her hand, "That's not all of it though is it?"

"Papa, I'm really, really good at my job," she blushed, but he only smiled in encouragement, "I help him be better at his job, I get job offers every other month, I can support myself, I ..."

"You are one crazy independent stubborn girl," he kissed her forehead, "come on honey, lets get something to eat. We can talk about this later."

**The End**

_Thanks for reading_


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